


my bloody valentine (the fanged remix)

by nasa



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Vampire Sex, Vampires, but not a vampire universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasa/pseuds/nasa
Summary: Turns out some viruses can still affect Steve.





	my bloody valentine (the fanged remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Vampire Flu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643988) by [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever). 



> I had such a fun time remixing this - neverever, I really hope you enjoy it!!

“I want a nap,” Tony declares, slumping into the pilot seat beside Steve.

Steve hums, not looking away from the windshield. He’s too tired to, honestly; even the thought of turning around to face Tony makes his neck ache with phantom pain.

“You can probably skip the debrief,” he says. “If you pass out in your lab, Fury can’t get mad at you.”

Tony huffs. “Oh, yes he can, but it’s cute you don’t think so.”

“You’re gonna skip anyway,” Steve says ruefully.

“You know it, baby.”

Steve sighs, but it’s more exasperated than genuinely annoyed. Tony is Tony is Tony, after all; it’s not like Steve had expected him to develop a sudden love for debriefings when he started dating Steve. Steve doesn’t like them either.

“You know, it’s been a while since you and I had a weekend away. I think we’re due.”

Steve glances over at Tony, surprised by the change in topic. “Yeah?” Tony’s soft in that post-battle way of his, grimy and tired but with a humming satisfaction beneath it all that makes him just - glow. “You’d do that for me?”

“Do it for you? It’s for me, honey,” Tony says. “What do say, Paris? Or, no, that doesn’t exactly scream quiet weekend - maybe the French countryside would be better, I do have a villa down there -”

“Or we could just go upstate,” Steve interrupts. “You have to have a cabin somewhere.”

“More mansion than cabin,” Tony corrects, “but I get your point. Fine. We’ll stay decidedly domestic. Oh! Double-meaning, ha.”

Steve rolls his eyes, turning back to face front. Tired as he is, the idea of a weekend away with Tony is rejuvenating - it  _ has  _ been ages since they’ve been able to get away, just the two of them, and as stupid as it might sound, Steve has missed him. He doesn’t get nearly as much time alone with Tony as he’d like.

That anticipation manages to keep him awake through the entire ride home, and then through the hour-long preliminary debrief. Eventually, even Maria can see how they’re all flagging, and dismisses them for home with orders to come back the next morning at eight a.m. sharp.

There’s a chorus of groans around Steve from his fellow Avengers - Clint in particular seems to have taken offense to such an early hour - but he pays it no heed. He’s tired, and hungry, and all he really wants is to cuddle up in bed with Tony in his arms and take a long nap.

Well. Now that he thinks about it, there’s a few  _ other  _ things he’d like to do first -

But, no. Steve shakes the thought from his head. He’s tired and hungry and Tony’s tired and hungry, too. First priority is food, then sleep. Then, if they’re both feeling up to it, they can get frisky in the morning. 

The ride home is only twenty minutes long, but Steve’s hunger seems to triple in just that time. There’s some great smell that’s gotten stuck in his nose that he can’t get out, and it makes his stomach growl. A headache starts to pound behind his eyes. Steve has to breathe deep and regular and remind himself, again and again, that he’s almost home. It’s fine.

When he finally gets to the Tower, he all but tosses his bike into its parking space and heads up to the kitchen in the common floor as fast as his tired legs can take him. When he gets there, he finds Tony slumped at the table, surrounded by half-empty boxes of Chinese food. He looks sated and content, one hand splayed across his full belly. He smiles when he sees Steve. “I got you Kung Pao chicken,” he says, but it’s not the Kung Pao chicken that smells so irresistible.

Steve blinks, and when he opens his eyes, it’s to find himself pressing Tony up against the fridge, his hands braced on either side of Tony’s head, knee pressed between thighs. He’s kissing him, kissing him hard, but it’s not enough; not close enough, not  _ deep  _ enough -

He manages to regain enough presence of mind to pull back, and when he does, he’s greeted with Tony’s stunned expression and his own reflection in the fridge door. It takes him a moment to recognize it, but when he does, his heart sinks: there, peeking out between his lips, are a pair of gleaming white incisors, ready for blood. 

Shit.

-

Tony watches Steve breathing heavily, fangs poking out of his mouth, and tries to think about what to do.

So, Steve is a vampire. That’s - unexpected. Weirder things have happened, of course, but still, this is pretty fucking weird. Steve is a vampire, and from the looks of it, he wants to eat Tony for dinner. Great. Fucking perfect.

“Steve?” he asks carefully, after several long moments pass without either of them speaking. “Are you in there?”

Steve blinks, blinks again, and with what looks like major effort, forces himself to take a step back from Tony. “Shit. Shit, Tony, I’m so sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Tony asks. He takes a step forward to lay a hand on Steve’s shoulder, but Steve flinches, full bodied, and Tony automatically moves back. “Do you need Bruce?”

“I need  _ blood, _ ” Steve groans, and immediately looks like he regrets saying it. “Shit. Yes, call Bruce, he can force me out of here, they can put me in an exclusion pen until the serum fights it off -”

“Hey,” Tony says, instincts be damned, and steps forward again. Steve steps back. “Stop running away from me. It’s okay.”

“I almost bit you,” Steve says roughly.

“Maybe you still will,” Tony says. Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet Tony’s, wide and tinged just slightly with red. “People donate blood all the time, right? What about this is so different?”

“Tony, you can’t honestly be saying -”

“If you need blood, I have blood, Steve.”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, so vigorous it’s making his hair ruffled. “Tony, no, I couldn’t possibly -”

Tony sidles up into Steve’s personal space before he can move away again, chest to chest. He sees Steve’s nostrils flare, the clench of his jaw as he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

“Steve,” he says quietly, taking Steve’s hand in his. “Do you need blood?”

Because Tony’s not blind. He had thought it was just exhaustion, this afternoon, and maybe good old regular human hunger, but still, he could tell Steve was wearing thin: the dark circles blooming under his eyes, the frown lines on his mouth, the slow and almost unsteady motion of his gait. For a human, Tony would prescribe food and sleep, but now, it was obvious: what Steve needed was blood. And judging by his fangs, the dilation of his pupils, and the way he kept clenching and unclenching his hand around Tony’s waist, Steve’s instincts knew that. Even if he didn’t want to accept it.

“It’s not safe,” Steve says hoarsely, without opening his eyes to look at Tony. “I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Yes, you will,” Tony says, with a confidence he’s not sure he possesses. “Jarvis can always call for help if we need it.”

Steve takes a deep breath as though to try to calm himself, but it must just make it worse, because his face crumples. Finally, he meets Tony’s eyes; it’s strange, that little tinge of red beside the blue.  _ A truly patriotic eye color, _ Tony thinks ridiculously.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve says, so low it’s almost a whisper.

“I don’t mind a little pain,” Tony says, curling a little bit closer. “Steve. Sweetheart. You need blood.”

“I don’t -”

“You do,” Tony says firmly. “Now, come on. Just have a little taste.”

Steve visibly hesitates, biting his lip. “Not - not here,” he says, finally, “I don’t want the others to walk in and, and get the wrong idea, or -”

“Not here,” Tony agrees. “Let’s go upstairs, huh?”

He guides Steve to the elevator and up to their shared floor, and then the bedroom, without stepping more than a few feet away from Steve. When they do get there, Steve has the absurd instinct that they should lay down towels, or do this in the bathtub or something, but Tony just crawls into bed and relaxes back into his soft silk sheets.

“Come here,” Tony says, finally, when Steve doesn’t move from his awkward position at the side of the bed. “You don’t need an invitation to cross the mattress, do you?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not funny,” he says, but crawls onto the bed nonetheless. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I already said you won’t.” Tony slips one hand around the back of Steve’s neck to pull him closer. “Come on, you’re gonna make me feel unattractive.”

Steve groans. “You are anything but unattractive right now.”

“Yeah?” Tony wets his lips. “Then come here.”

Kissing Steve simultaneously feels very normal and also very foreign. Tony can’t get over the feeling of Steve’s teeth protruding out of his mouth, and he swears Steve feels colder than usual, like his circulation isn’t running well. Still, it is Steve, and he tastes the same. When Tony pulls back, it’s only enough to rest his forehead against Steve’s.

“I want to be what you need,” he murmurs. “Just - have some blood, Steve. I’ll tell you if you’ve gone too far.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks one last time. “You really want to do this?”

Tony brushes a thumb over Steve’s cheek. “You need blood,” he says again. “I have blood. It won’t kill me.”

Steve’s eyebrows pinch. “Unless it does.”

Tony just kisses him again, deep and long until he’s breathless. He feels suddenly nervous, high on adrenaline, but he pushes it away. He needs to keep it together - for Steve.

“Take what you need,” he manages, trying to keep his hands from trembling where they rest on Steve’s neck. “Just - just -”

Steve swallows his words in a bruising kiss. Tony can taste the copper blood on his tongue, can feel Steve’s incisors nipping at his lips. “I love you,” Steve murmurs. “Tony.” Then he bends down, grip still firm and unyielding where he’s holding Tony close, and bites into Tony’s neck.

The sensation is staggering, sharp and hot. Tony struggles to breathe in first one gasp of air, then another. He can feel the blood leaving his body, can feel Steve sucking with steady pressure on his skin, can feel the lick of a rough tongue and the sharp points of teeth buried in the meat of him. His body goes into overdrive and his heart rate picks up; he feels as though there’s something pressing on his chest, something other than a bloodthirsty super soldier, something even more sinister.  _ I could die like this,  _ Tony realizes, as Steve drinks steadily.  _ I could die, right now. _

He’s always been a bit of a masochist, so he’s not too shocked when he realizes the thought turns him on.

“Steve,” he manages, bringing one hand up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “You - oh -” Steve does something particularly creative with his tongue that has Tony’s hips stuttering against Steve’s, sending every coherent thought flying out of Tony’s mind.

He eases up on the pressure, pulling back to lap at Tony’s skin. “Shh,” Steve murmurs, suddenly confident, his lips moving against Tony’s shoulder. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

It would be easy for Tony to argue with that. Steve is, after all, sucking Tony’s blood with the sort of full-bodied concentration Tony has never seen on him before; and he’s holding Tony down, unable to escape, completely at the mercy of Steve’s bloodlust. If Tony were acting logically, he’d call Thor, or Bruce. If Tony were acting logically, he’d try to stay as alert as possible, talk Steve away from his veins like a mediator at a hostage situation. But then, if Tony were acting logically, he wouldn’t be here with Steve in the first place.

Tony sighs and slumps, boneless, against the sheets. Steve hums, a happy sound, and delves back in to Tony’s neck. “Steve,” Tony whispers.

After that, things grow blurred and indistinct. All Tony can register is general sensations: Steve’s mouth against his neck, the feeling of blood leaving a body, Steve’s rough fingers dancing over his cock. Tony can feel himself growing harder under Steve’s continuous touches, despite how desperately his brain needs the blood heading straight to his dick. His body can’t seem to help it. He wriggles and shakes under Steve’s touch, dizzy like he’s falling, like he’s been spun in so many circles he can’t find the right way up. Eventually, he comes into Steve’s hand, with the groan of a dying man and an explosion of black behind his eyelids.

He passes out between one breath and the next.

-

Tony wakes to a warm cloth against his neck and gentle hands on his chest.

“Shhh,” someone says. “Shh, it’s just me.” The room is quiet and dark, but in the shadows, Tony can make out the vague silhouette of someone stooped above him, blocking out the light. The man moves just slightly, and a bit of light from the bathroom illuminates his face.  _ Oh. Steve. _

“Hey,” Tony murmurs. His mouth feels thick and dry, like he’s been sleeping for hours and hours. He’s thirsty - so very thirsty - but he doesn’t really have the energy to move. He wonders why he’s so hazy.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispers back. He finally finishes wiping at Tony’s neck and sets the rag on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”

Tony considers. “Okay,” he settles on.

“Okay?” Steve asks. He’s frowning, brow pinched. “You should drink something. Here.” He presses a water bottle into Tony’s hand, also from the bedside table. Looking over, Tony realizes there’s a variety of supplies laid out there, as if readying for something: water, cloths, bandages, disinfectant.

“Why -” he starts, before it comes back to him. The vampires, Steve’s bloodlust, the sensation of fangs in his neck. “Oh.”

Steve’s expression is hard to read in the dark, but it doesn’t look good. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, sweetheart - if you want me to go, I’ll go, but I wanted to make sure you were okay, first -”

“Go?” As soon as it had gone, there it is again, the sensation that Tony is missing something. “Why would you go somewhere?”

“Well, because I bit you -”

“Can you not control yourself?” Tony interrupts. “Because if not, I mean, that’s understandable, we can get you to Bruce’s panic room -”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Steve says. “The - wanting to drink blood, thing, seems to be under control. It’s just - I drank your  _ blood,  _ Tony, and you passed out before I stopped, I think - well, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to see me for a little bit.”

“Oh. Well, that’s stupid,” Tony says. His neck feels a little tender, so he moves gingerly, wiggling over under the covers to leave a space by his side. He pats the mattress. “Get in bed, hot stuff.”

“You sure?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Get in bed.”

Steve does, climbing in carefully so as not to disturb Tony at all. He lays down so they’re not touching, two parallel lines, but Tony won’t stand for that. He waits until Steve is settled and then curls up against Steve’s side, laying his head across Steve’s broad chest. He pats his hand on Steve’s ribs. “Sleep,” he says.

He’s asleep before he has time to contemplate whether newly-minted vampires actually  _ can  _ sleep.

-

When Tony wakes again, it’s to the sound of his bedroom door banging open, and a angry, Hulk-tinged voice yelling, “Get the hell away from him!”

Tony sighs and heaves himself up onto Steve’s chest. Steve hasn’t moved at all, though he is watching Bruce from his position as Tony’s pillow. “Hey, Bruce.”

“He got infected, he’s a vampire -”

Tony gestures to the bite mark on his neck. “Yeah, boobear, I know.”

Bruce sighs, slumping down. “Shit, Tony,” he says. “Seriously?”

“Hey, in my defense, he was hungry,” Tony points out.

“Yeah, and now you might be a vampire, we just -” Bruce closes his eyes, shakes his head. “It’s fine. Fine,” he says, like he’s talking to himself. “We’ll test you for vampirism and in the meantime I guess I’ll - start synthesizing a cure.”

“Thanks, boo,” Tony says with a grin. “Hey, if we’re lucky Steve’s antibodies warped the virus enough that I won’t even turn.”

“That’s - how do you call yourself a genius? That’s not how antibodies work, Tony, the entire immune system is predicated on an attach and attack system -”

“Sure, that’s how the  _ human  _ body works, but Steve’s not human, he’s a god - or a supersoldier, at least, which, let’s be real, is basically the same thing, just look at those abs -”

“I think that’s enough,” Steve interrupts, when Tony’s eyes start to glaze over and he looks like he’s going to go into another one of his fifteen-minute odes about the pure artwork of Steve’s body. Not that Steve would normally mind, of course, but poor Bruce is looking both redder and greener by the moment.

“Anyway, the point is you never know,” Tony says.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and the Earth might be flat, technically anything is possible. Whatever. I’ll be back in ten minutes with a vial for a blood sample. And some cookies.”

“For me?” Tony asks hopefully.

“For you,” Bruce confirms. “Not as a reward, though! To replenish your blood sugar. I’ll bring some fruit and water, too. And you,” he says, rounding on Steve. “You better not drink any more from him until I check him out, you hear?”

Steve nods quickly. “I don’t even want to,” he says. “Right now, the thought of blood just kinda grosses me out.”

“You can have some of my cookies,” Tony offers.

Steve wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Thanks, but that sounds kind of gross, too.”

Tony gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “ _ Cookies?” _

Steve rolls his eyes, but Bruce just hums. “Looks like the serum’s doing a better job than I thought.”

“Case in point!” Tony exclaims, waving a hand in the air.

Bruce ignores him. “Keep me updated on where you’re at, okay? We’ll have to keep you two in here for the next few days, isolated from everyone else, just to be safe. You should make sure to get your fridge stocked and your schedules clean. Oh, and let me know if Tony starts acting like a mosquito too, okay, I’ll have to monitor this really closely.”

Steve nods determinately, a little furrow between his brows. It’s so adorable Tony can almost forget what he’d looked like last night, skin stained pink with blood, incisors dripping. Almost. “You got it.”

“Vacation,” Tony says, pleased.

Bruce ignores him. “No more being a human blood bag,” he tells Tony firmly, and then disappears out the door, calling instructions to Jarvis as he goes.

“I probably should have just gone down to medical and gotten some blood,” Steve says a moment later. “Didn’t even think of that.”

“And miss out on that kinky sex? No thank you.” Tony flops back down on Steve’s chest, so his ear rests against Steve’s heart. His heart is still beating, thank goodness - not entirely undead yet - but it’s a slower, louder sound than usual, a different drumbeat to a different song.

Steve’s hand settles on the nape of Tony’s neck, fingers tangling in Tony’s messy hair. “I am sorry, though.”

“Shut up.” Tony props his chin up on his hand, meeting Steve’s eyes. “If I’m a vampire, I’m a vampire. If I’m not, I’m not. It’s me. I’ll figure it out.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of Steve’s lips. “Build a suit of armor in a desert cave, huh?”

“Yep,” Tony agrees, settling back down. “Not right now, though. Right now is nap time.”

Steve’s fingers card through Tony’s hair. “You should eat something first,” he says, a tinge of concern in his voice. “Bruce is right, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“If I’m not dead yet, I won’t be in an hour,” Tony says, sleep already taking hold of his mind. “Just - wake me up in a bit, I just want a little nap…”

There’s the soft feeling of fingers in his hair and then a warm press of lips to Tony’s temple. “I should learn how to say no to you,” Steve says.

“What fun would that be?” Tony nestles a little closer. “Just - take a rest. You need it.”

Steve sighs. “If you insist.”

They drift off together, breaths rising and falling in tandem.  
  



End file.
